


F*CK YOU, GOODBYE

by triggerlil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Break Up, Clubbing, Cocaine, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Drug Use, F/F, Recreational Drug Use, Songfic, Swearing, Toxic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28766028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triggerlil/pseuds/triggerlil
Summary: Pansy yells at the top of her lungs into the night and Ginny takes the highway.
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Machine Gun Kelly has been making me feel some type of way and I needed to let it out, much thanks to Blue for the beta <3 
> 
> Inspired by [F*CK YOU, GOODBYE by The Kid LAROI and Machine Gun Kelly. ](https://open.spotify.com/track/0DYNL4xbYWgNzppUamtyR4?si=fz-GPXkTSxKU3NNnvdcJPQ)

Pansy leaned over the railing of the patio, hair whipping around her face. Her slashed black bob shined with the light of the city, her cheeks burning red, her eyes on fire.

“FUCK YOU!” She screamed, voice hoarse, railing digging into her stomach, biting cold on her hands. “Bitch! I never want to see you again!” 

“Goodbye, Parkinson!” Ginny called up from the ground, pointing two middle fingers to the sky. Neither of them cared that they were probably waking up the entire night district, not right now. 

“Stupid, fucking cunt, bitch!” Pansy yelled, flirting with gravity. She kept screaming the entire time that Ginny walked away, even as she got onto her motorcycle and pulled on her helmet and certainly couldn’t hear her, even when Ginny pulled out into the street, and when a couple glared at her from below, and even when hot and salty tears stung her cheeks. 

Feeling like her throat might break, she collapsed onto the porch. A cool summer wind ran through the streets, ruffling Pansy’s hair, and chasing Ginny across the neon asphalt. 

Pansy crawled back into the hotel room with barely enough energy to move around the jagged edges of a vase she’d thrown just right of Ginny’s head. Mementos of their weekend were flung around their room—Pansy’s little black dress and lace panties, Ginny’s beer bottles and sports bra, the concert tickets for tomorrow on the nightstand—a million eyes watching Pansy drink unceremoniously from a bottle of vodka. 

She grimaced, shuddering. It tasted vile, and yet she was the one who had wanted it so they could have French martinis, which they hadn’t even gotten a chance to make. 

Fuck. She had really done it. This was really it. 

She took another swig of vodka. If Ginny was going to run away, then Pansy was going to run away too. She rubbed at her eyes, smudging her already ruined mascara, and crawled over to the queen-sized bed, pulling herself up. Her legs shook. 

She collapsed, sloshing vodka onto the covers, and curled up in Ginny’s discarded bathrobe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [I Think I'm OKAY by Machine Gun Kelly, Travis Barker, and YUNGBLUD. ](https://open.spotify.com/track/2gTdDMpNxIRFSiu7HutMCg?si=punTq0NoSpGYdoWdT-_BlQ)

“We need to go,” Pansy sighed, standing in the foyer with her arms crossed, wrapped in a black fur coat. Laura hopped around, trying to put on a pair of heels, and Blaise leaned against the banister rolling his eyes. 

“Sod off, you two,” she huffed, finally getting both feet into her shoes and standing up. She hiked her leather purse over her shoulder and turned up her nose. It felt so Malfoy that Pansy had to suppress a shudder. 

Pansy and Blaise didn’t hang about with Draco much anymore. 

“Another shot before we go,” Laura smirked, grabbing the bottle of white rum from the living room; she took a quick swig and blanched, passing the bottle to Pansy.

“Rum is terrible,” Laura moaned. “Why not vodka?” 

Pansy drank, her face remained impassive, she passed it to Blaise and even he had to shiver. 

In the cab, Pansy leaned her forehead against the cool glass, watching the streetlights. A motorcycle pulled up next to them, sleek and dark; Pansy fought down the rising bile in her throat. 

“Best club in the night district my arse,” Blaise muttered as they passed through the coat check. They’d been able to bounce the line thanks to Laura’s dolled up face being on the billboard behind them, but even that couldn’t stop Blaise from being a skeptic. He’d make his final call when he tried their gin and tonic, that was always what he got first anywhere they went, and it decided the fate of the night — would he give in to having a good time or spend the whole night sulking and complaining about the music?

They were greeted by neon lights, thrumming music, and grinding bodies. They made their way towards the bar. 

One gin and tonic, a cosmopolitan, and a shot of white rum. 

Laura and Pansy watched Blaise with trepidation. He took a sip, brow furrowed, and then placed his glass delicately on the bar. 

“Very nice.”

They both sighed in relief. 

“Now we can finally get this party started,” Laura grinned, grabbing Pansy’s hand and pulling her towards the bathroom. She tried to shoot Blaise an apologetic smile, but he had already disappeared into the crowd. 

Laura shuffled them into a bathroom stall and prepared the line on her compact mirror. She handed Pansy a rolled-up post-it note. 

Fuck it.

Pansy looked in the mirror and didn’t quite recognize herself; her reflection had the detached quality of drunkenness and the flickering buzz of a high. She’d cut her own hair a few weeks ago, and now it was short and choppy. She’d had a breakdown over it, but now she’d convinced herself it was fashionable. Her cheeks had hollowed out in the last few months, and she pressed at her nose, puggish. 

Laura and Pansy returned to the dance floor, finding Blaise in the throw, and Pansy lost all desire to control herself. She lost her body to the music, even when Laura disappeared to pin down a stranger, and Blaise ordered another gin and tonic just so he could flirt with the bartender. She just found someone else, and someone else, and someone else. 

She was dancing with a woman whose name she didn’t know and whose face she wouldn’t remember tomorrow when their eyes met. 

Ginny’s red hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, a black mesh shirt layered over a strappy sports bra; she looked the same as the last night Pansy had seen her. Screamed words echoed in Pansy’s head. 

And fuck if Pansy didn’t miss her every moment of every day.

The world around her faded away until the only thing that seemed to exist was Ginny Weasley. It had always been Ginny, it was always going to be Ginny—

The woman shook her head, face guilty, eyes downcast, she turned, moving through grinding bodies and disappearing.

Pansy reached out, but her fingers clutched at ghosts. 

_ “Goodbye, Parkinson.”  _


End file.
